Flowers offered to the deity
have wilted;
Their fragrance filled
the sanctum last night...
now, there's no trace of their permeating whiff.
I look at them, feel them softly
And then like a thorn a thought pricks me:
What about my fervent prayer of last night?
Will it too fade away
and lose its intensity with time?
Nothing remains fresh...
All prayers like wishes wither
they wane...and then vanish...
Only a faith stays afloat.
It continues to manifest itself.
New prayers are said...they echo in the chest...
And in the end,
they get immersed in an unseen abyss of silence.
About the Poet
A journalist by profession, Tirtho Banerjee has five poetry books under his belt -- Beyond words And Between the lines (written under the pseudonym Noren); Cityscape; Love Knots, Ripples and Standstill. His poems have featured in various journals.
